In F minor
June 4th, 2007
Each key has a sound, a word, a hue
A melancholic hello
A mellow seductive…
oh, how you doing? where you been?
And a goodbye that screams the blues
Hit an F sharp then drop me back again
Call me one day, the next I’m all alone
It’s the quiet rationale of the moment
when reality is an overpowering sonnet,
Is it an addiction to not want to be alone?
God, I wish he’d want to hold my hand
Better yet,
just have him exit the same door that let him in
Take the smell of his cologne
That’s never around and around
An already hung rope
that just doesn’t want to be found
In the F minor range,
Having a cigarettes and wine
Sounds to ease the mind
a shot of expresso, picks it back up
Brings it back to an even C
melodic and up tempo,
in the midrange of the keys
Note to self,
(don’t ever forget)
Engrave it in vital organs
and white ivory mounds
how many things
how many people
how many stories in this world
Can be so very much fake…
Are so very much fake
For JT
add to del.icio.usAngry Moments
May 22nd, 2007
If it was a matter of weighing in
tossing a dice
calling the bluff
Acapulco cliff diving
into an onyx caramel sea
full of saphired…desire
then I smoke ‘em all
Even when the physicality of fear
Descends 50 flights into the soul
I’ll persevere
Dating the wrong man is an
Oxymoron useless what if
as if what ifs were ever useful ifs
when you knew what you were signing
on the broken iffy line
Their secretes,
I’ll never tell
Their faults, they’ll never see,
And all my checkered past
I’ll lie and say its crém de la peachy
a la femme fatal
with strawberry swirls
I’m gonna cry attentively
Because….
that’s what the best of them do
cry on command and laugh on a cue
it’s all a matter of who
sees you and who you want
to see you
I put on a great show, I know
I was made an actress from the start
The mediator, great daughter, star student
With the urgency of an audience
to hide what can’t be spoken
Perhaps it just takes a smarter man, to figure me out
A stronger one, to persist and love me
from the inside out
Slightly inspired by Tom Waits, as this is my TW period: “I’ll tell you all my secrets but I lie about my past, send me off to bed forever more.”
add to del.icio.usLa Ultima Carta
May 13th, 2007
Again from the vault of my teenage years…Yo necesito decirte que te quiero,
que mi boca quema con tu nombre,
que mi verso respira con tu encuentro,
que mi mente se sofoca en tu pasión
Te confieso: He pecado
fantaseando con tus labios,
pues poca chanza me has dejado
de pecar en lo más carnal
Te digo mi amor estos hechos:
Impides mis sueños
nublas la luz de mi enfoque,
y en veladas sin juicio
preñas las páginas de mi diario con tu esencia.
Mentir ó no mentirte,
vivir ó no vivir…
importa menos
que tú querer
o no quererme.
Como más te puedo suplicar?
Entre mas me acerco a tu corazón,
mas me hundo en el fuego de la inquisición,
con una imagen brutal y lejana
de nuestro amor, que en un beso judío suspira,
quizás sí, tal vez no.
For my great grandparents, they fought for each other
Otra Vuelta / Another Round?
May 9th, 2007
Soy tu victima agradable
Libre esclava, sonriendo
Te quiero pero te odio
Te dejo pero te lloro
Ilusionada con un pasado
Que no quisiera olvidar
Pero tu boca me vuelve loca
Añades a la colecion
I am your willing victim
I rustle the sheets
Rock a bye baby tight
Hug a yearning
in my sleep tonight
I am your ignorant scholar
I turn a blind eye
To all that I can’t stand
I don’t know if I love to hate you
Or hate to love you
(They sure feel the same sometimes)
So, now I’m just blind
disoriented–
mental and confused
This one was from September/November, cleaning out the journals. Texas foxglove; hard to believe this beautiful plant was used to make a deadly tea.
Make Some Monkey Sounds!!!
April 22nd, 2007
Drum up the djembe,
stomp off the dust,
Make it primal,
Make it real,
Like excited monkey talks
It’s the last week of poetry month
Let’s all disassemble
We gotta get wicked,
We gotta get wild,
We gotta make poetry
out of every mound
We gotta speak our song
Howl at the wind
Make the colors
sound sound sound
Let the ghost of every past and present
ranter, writer, poet
possess my soul
Treat me like a ragged doll
I’ll take you, my poem
all tethered and bound
This is the last week of poetry month,
Poetry, come caress me
Set me loose, set us free
I am encouraging anyone who reads my site to write a poem, if you send it and it’s clean, I’ll publish. Come on closet poets, I’ve already gotten a emails with beautiful poetry. Celebrate national poetry month and give the soul happy words and twinkle feet. This poem was written in a laundry mat: 
Inspired by L. Hughes
April 7th, 2007
I’ve loved you
I’ve dreamt you
I’ve built gardens of words around you
Cultivating them so high and wide
They made a fortress of maize
Reaching the unending sky
I’ve shucked stalks of juicy corn
Until my hands were white in pain
Each kernel was a sonnet
and ode, a thought
a song of longing for you
I’ve slept walked you,
Rubik’s cubed decoded you
Splatter juice caress
Express a verse about you
I’ve fled to lands far apart
And rivers old and fragile
Captured with the comfort of my third eye
Simple gifts of land and words,
So you know how much I adore you
